


Naive Candor

by TheEndeavorNetwork



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Extended Universe, Justice League (2017), Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Clark connects with a kid after rescuing him and his mother, Comfort, Gen, Injury, Mild Blood, rescuing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEndeavorNetwork/pseuds/TheEndeavorNetwork
Summary: There was nothing more he could do to help. He turned and saw a little boy standing a few feet away in the street. He was staring in terror with a hand clasped over his mouth. He couldn’t have been older than 8.Clark approached him slowly and knelt down. The boy simply stared at him, looking petrified.“It’s ok,” he said soothingly, “They’re going to help your mom.”
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Naive Candor

**Author's Note:**

> Title ripped from the Debussy quote, "I wish to sing of my interior visions with the naive candour of a child," because I suck at coming up with good ones myself.
> 
> First of all, I'm not a medical expert, so apologies in advance.  
> Secondly, I want to explain why I refer to Clark as "Clark" in third person narration rather than Superman. Superman is an external identity, but Clark Kent is his internal identity. Since third person takes us to his internal thoughts, I call him "Clark."

Clouds of dust swirled in the air as Clark removed the rubble piece by piece. He could hear the woman’s weak heartbeat and ragged breaths, but she was unconscious. He pulled the last piece of plaster off of her. She was middle-aged and had black curly hair. A piece of broken wood was lodged in her abdomen. Clark scooped her up as gently as possible and flew out the window. He carried her to a squad of paramedics and set her on the gurney outside their ambulance. There was a line of ambulances along the street caring for victims of the earthquake.

The medics debated quickly in Arabic as they checked her vitals, and one of them injected her with something. A couple others were ready with a needle and thread, a suction machine, and towels. Then, one of them grabbed the end of the wood and yanked it out. Blood spurted, but another medic immediately stuck her hand in the wound and clamped the vessel shut with a tool. Clark stepped back and watched them work. There was nothing more he could do to help. Everyone had already been rescued from the apartment building.

He turned and saw a little boy standing a few feet away in the street. He was staring in terror with a hand clasped over his mouth. Clark had taken him to safety earlier before going back for his mother. He couldn’t have been older than 8.

_“He shouldn’t be seeing this.”_

Clark approached him slowly and knelt down. The boy simply stared at him, looking petrified.

“It’s ok,” he said soothingly, “They’re going to help your mom.”

He didn’t know if the boy understood what he was saying, but he figured it was better than leaving him alone.

“What’s your name? My name’s Kal.”

Clark put a hand to his chest, hoping that would make his meaning clear, “I’m Kal.”

“Bassam,” the boy replied in a croaky voice, taking his hand from his mouth.

Clark glanced back at Bassam’s mother. Better to take the boy away till they finished.

“Let’s, um…Let’s take a walk - “he pointed down the street, “- while they help your mom.”

Bassam stared at him, then over Clark’s shoulder at his mother.

“Mama,” he began anxiously, and Clark didn’t understand a word after that.

“It’s ok. She’ll be ok,” he said, not knowing if it was true or not. The medics seemed to think this was the best course of action, at least.

Bassam looked uneasy but let Clark take his hand anyway. He kept looking over his shoulder as they walked down the road. Clark could hear noise from the blockade in the distance. Reporters, rubberneckers, Superman fans… He tuned them out and sat down. Bassam remained standing and hung his head. He nervously picked under his nails and glanced over at the ambulance. Eventually, he looked at Clark again. His eyes wandered over the suit and lingered on the cape. He pointed to it and began speaking in…French? It was halted and awkward, but he was doing it. Unfortunately, Clark didn’t know French, either. Bassam said something in Arabic, followed by more French.

“Uh…eh…le tissu…rouge…”

Did he like the color? Clark grabbed a handful of the fabric and held it out to him.

“You can touch it.”

Bassam cautiously reached out and felt it. Emboldened, he grabbed it with both hands.

“It’s really strong,” Clark said. His mind raced for the French word for “strong.”

Nothing. Dammit.

Bassam finally sat down. He let go of the cape and set his eyes on the House of El insignia.

“It’s ok. Go ahead.”

The boy touched a finger to the center of the “S,” and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his face. He spoke in Arabic this time, words flowing freely. They knew they couldn’t understand each other, so it didn’t matter. As Bassam continued, he grew more excited and started gesticulating, pointing to the sky and miming things.

When Bassam held his hands together in a circle and brought them down forcefully while making a dramatic “DDDJJJOOOO!” sound effect, Clark realized with a pang of shock what he was talking about. It was the day the World Engine almost destroyed Earth. And Bassam was telling it like it was a thrilling story. He was so young, he probably didn’t grasp everything that happened. To him, there were bad guys, Superman beat them, and the day was saved. Clark was almost jealous of his naivety. The reality was gruesome and complex.

But Bassam didn’t need to know that. Hell, Clark couldn’t explain even if he wanted to. So, he just smiled and nodded.

A voice called from the other side of the street. One of the medics was waving his arms at them. The gurney was already loaded into the ambulance. Bassam immediately started running, but Clark grabbed him and flew over. After Clark set him back on the ground, Bassam jumped into the vehicle and leaned over the side of the gurney. His mother was still unconscious, but her heartbeat was stronger. A medic put her hand on Bassam’s shoulder and spoke reassuringly.

“Will she be ok?” Clark asked one of the others.

The man nodded. “She’s stable. We’re taking the boy with us to hospital.”

The rest of the squad climbed in to leave the scene. Before they shut the door, Bassam waved at Clark.

“Merci, Superman!”

Clark had no idea what the appropriate response to “merci” was, so he smiled and said it back. Bassam laughed, and the doors shut with a thud.

The ambulance drove away. Clark wondered what would happen to them, where they would live now. The least he could do was find out why this happened. The company that owned the complex probably cut corners on the engineering and safety protocols. He’d do some digging and run it by Perry tomorrow.

Some uninjured people who lived on the block were recording him with their phones. They waved and cheered as he took off into the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote most of this in the summer of 2018.


End file.
